


dreams last for so long (even after you're gone)

by sorrelleaf (orphan_account)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 10:11:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7218355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/sorrelleaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>when love is a disease, happily ever after isn't something you know how to look for.<br/>set in the universe of lauren oliver's delirium.</p>
            </blockquote>





	dreams last for so long (even after you're gone)

**Author's Note:**

> repost from another deleted account~  
> because i just felt like it lol  
> and why not?

 

**0**

 

Love is just a four letter word. 

 

And he was just one boy.

 

**-90**

 

In life, one needs to be careful; one needs to observe the boundaries and keep away from the edges. Keep a minimum distance between people of the opposite sex, don't talk too loud, don't touch too much, don't sing, don't laugh, don't dream. There are rules for these things, specific guidelines, things to do, in numbered lists, standard operating procedures. Barriers around the city, electric fences the keep out the Wilds and the Invalids, the infected, and regulators;  punishment when you step out of line. Order and stability are the primary pillars of life.

 

Contagion is everywhere, crawling under skin, flowing through blood vessels, seeping past barriers and dripping into every crevice. You have to be cautious. It's the only way to be safe. And who doesn't want to be safe?

 

Love is an epidemic, they whisper.  _ Amor deliria nervosa _ . Delirium. Delusion. Madness. Hysteria. It fells people by the nations, starts war and famine and pain; tears apart families and friends, destroys lives. 

 

Love is a disease, they teach, insidious and deadly, and so fatal. A single trivial touch, a meaningless sideways look and you are caught, lost, doomed.

 

Love is destruction.

 

~~

 

Luhan is three months to his procedure and happy.

 

The procedure is promise, a safety net, blessed escape from that cruel disease still lurking in the air, that will slide in past your ribs and stab straight at your heart, like a missile. He wants the careless, thoughtless serenity he sees in his parents' faces, unruffled, unlined. Their slow, sure movements, never frantic or desperate, like a pendulum on a clock, swaying steadily to a single beat. A beat he can't hear yet, but will. Soon. He almost quivers with the excitement of it all, so close.

 

'What is it like?' He asks once, fear tap dancing on his heart.

 

'They put you to sleep, and when you wake up, you're cured.' His mother smiles at him, beatific. 

 

Like a caterpillar, he thinks, waking up to a brand new life.

 

But he doesn't say that; flights of fancy are severely frowned upon, a remnant of the time plagued by love.

 

Soon, he thinks, soon I will be free from all these dangers.

 

~~

 

Just before a person turns eighteen, they undergo an evaluation. It's a routine test with a panel of seniors; people in high positions, posing questions to determine his state of mind, his character, his personality. Evaluations are important, they'll tell you who you can marry, what kind of occupations you can take up, what path lies ahead for you. People who will fit into your life, like they've always been part of it, helping it go in the direction that is best for you.

 

Luhan remembers his, just a few months ago, how exposed and strange he had felt, under the appraising gazes of the men and women before him. Somehow stammering out the correct answers to each of their questions. The sheer relief when it was finally over. 

 

'9.' says his slip at the end. Higher than he had expected, higher than he had let himself imagine.

 

**-75**

 

'So who did you get paired with?' Sehun asks, stretching lazily.

 

After each person's evaluation, you get a list of three names, names of people appropriate for the grade you received, people who would be able to complement you in whatever comes ahead.

 

'Lee GaYoung ' Luhan says, trying to sound casual.

 

'Whoa.' Sehun drags out the word. 'She's your class belle or something right?'

 

'Yeah,' Luhan admits, cheeks pinking.

 

'Your parents must be pleased.'

 

Luhan nods and raises a shoulder. He supposes pleased is one way of saying it. They'd had bestowed polite smiles on him and briefly patted his back. That, he guesses, is as pleased as the cured get.

 

'You'll get your turn.'

 

'Yeah.'

 

Sehun is one year younger than Luhan, the son of his neighbours. They had been thrown together for convenience, fulfilling the need for children to be socialized.

 

Luhan is fond of Sehun; being with him is easy, like two joints sliding seamlessly together. Sehun makes Luhan feel warm, like a golden fire after a cold day, like curling up under a woollen blanket. Sehun makes him smile, sometimes laugh, even when he knows he shouldn’t quite.

 

‘I wish you didn’t have to do it,’ Sehun whispers, voice barely louder than the sound of the wind. 

 

‘You can’t say that,’ Luhan chides. ‘You know it’s for the best.’

 

‘Yeah, I know, I know.’ Sehun sighs, mouth tilted sad. ‘I guess I’ll just miss this.’

 

Luhan reaches over, pats Sehun’s forearm. ‘You’ll be fine, it’ll be better in the end. You won’t even miss me then.’

 

‘Maybe.’ Sehun sounds doubtful, but Luhan doesn’t want to press.

 

‘Hey,’ Sehun says, after a short lull of silence. ‘Wanna go for a swim?’

 

Luhan stares at Sehun, but Sehun isn’t looking back, eyes trained on the ceiling and the fan slowly spinning. ‘Remember how we used to go so often when we were younger?’

 

They haven’t gone swimming for a long time, not since school and studies and extracurricular activities had taken up their time. 

 

‘Why not?’ Luhan finally says. And Sehun looks up at him, eyes curved into slits, mouth wide with joy. There’s something disarming about it, a heat spreading in his chest. It’s odd, but Luhan figures it’s one of those last pieces of the old world that will be cleared when the cure is in place.

 

They go to the boys’ pool in the city center, half-running along the way. Sehun grabs Luhan’s wrist and pulls him as they get nearer, and when Luhan barely keeps his balance, Sehun lets out a laugh, too loud, too hearty. The cured send sharp, disapproving glances at them, and Luhan jerks his arm away from Sehun’s reaching fingers. ‘Don’t do that,’ he hisses.

 

‘You’re not cured yet,’ Sehun half-whines. ‘Just let me. Just- for now.’ Sehun steps forward, almost too close, taller and broader, his shadow falling across Luhan’s face, and he would be intimidating, if Luhan didn’t remember a little crying child a long time ago. ‘Ever since you got taller, you’ve been trying to use your height against me,’ Luhan scolds.

 

Sehun grins down, silent plea under his lashes. ‘Just let me?’ 

 

Luhan really can’t say no.

 

They run to the pool holding hands, like they haven’t done since they were knee-high.

 

~~

 

The pool is deserted and empty, nothing but the lazy talking of the attendants and the stinging smell of chlorine. 

 

'What kind of crazy person goes swimming when fall is coming?' Luhan mutters out of the corners of his mouth to Sehun. 

 

'Maybe I  _ am _ crazy~' Sehun grins at him, cheeky and bright and Luhan rolls his eyes.

 

Sehun turns away and pulls off his shirt in a swift motion, and Luhan's world seems to freeze in mid-motion, his own hands still clenched around the cloth of his shirt. It's a boy's body, not forbidden, something that he's allowed to see, something he does see, in school, at the gym, in his own mirror. But there's something about Sehun's that makes fire travel through his veins, makes his stomach tighten, makes everything else go dim.

 

'Luhan?' Sehun walks closer, 'Luhan, are you ok?'

 

'Wow, you got fit.' Luhan's throat is dry, it's not supposed to work like this.

 

Sehun shrugs, ‘Well not much to do but exercise right?’

 

Luhan’s attempt at a grin is lop-sided. His world has turned odd, colours in stark clarity, everything too contrasting. Sehun is close enough that Luhan can see the shadows his eyelashes cast on the delicate skin beneath his eyes. There’s a pounding in his ears that might, or might not be his heart. He doesn’t know.

 

‘Lu?’ Sehun looks troubled now, but Luhan can’t let himself be worried about that.

 

‘I have to go, I just remembered we had that paper to complete. I- I’ll see you around.’

 

He sprints back, feet loud and heavy on the pavement. There’s a whirring in his brain he needs to get away from, a terror from somewhere that feels primal. 

 

‘Have fun?’ His parents ask when he rushes through the door panting.

 

‘Yes,’ He answers, plastering on a stiff smile.

 

‘You shouldn’t go swimming after this, the weather is getting colder. Tell Sehun too.’ His mother reminds him, her voice pleasant.

 

‘Yeah, I won’t. Don’t worry.’

 

Luhan pulls himself to his room, legs like pieces of lead. 

 

~~

 

There's a book that they all live by, called The Book of Shh. It tells them of the disease, and it's history, about how the world changed after it was implemented. It also enumerates the symptoms of deliria, and it is that page -- dog-eared and creased, frequently referred to, just in case -- that Luhan flips to, hands shaking.

 

**_‘Phase One_ **

 

  * __preoccupation; difficulty focusing; dry mouth__


  * _perspiration, sweaty palms fits of dizziness and disorientation_


  * _reduced mental awareness; racing thoughts; impaired reasoning skills’_



 

 

Luhan thinks about how time had frozen around him, how reality had turned fuzzy, almost into a mirage. He thinks about the scratchiness of his throat, the sudden need to swallow, to consume all the water around. He thinks about the sharp outline of Sehun against the brilliant sunlit sky. 

 

UnNatural. That's what they called them; men and women who didn't choose an opposite sex. Men who loved men. Women who loved women. Those who loved both. 

 

UnNatural. He can hear the capitalization of the letters in his head. Like angry judging arrows pointing at him. This was worse than simple deliria.

 

He thinks about Sehun, laughing, silly, young. Thinks about intent, and the momentary flash of something else under his eyelashes. 

 

'No!' He tells himself, firm and determined. He's afraid, deliria is a death sentence if it gets too far. 

 

He glances at his calendar, at the date circled in red and bold. Two and a half months, all he has to do is avoid Sehun, avoid getting too many of the symptoms, avoid letting this develop even further than it might already have.

 

~~

 

‘You’re much more focused than usual,’ Yixing remarks, the next day at school. ‘I mean, you’re usually really focused, but this is much more...intense.’

 

‘Are you okay?’ Yixing's expression is curious, his voice mildly interested. 

 

And Luhan thinks about how Sehun would have asked, the undercurrent of concern and worry, how it would have lapped over him like a gentle wave. But that is dangerous, wanting to be seen like that, treated like that.

 

Yixing is looking at him, waiting for an answer. His mouth is turned up into a mild smile. 

 

'Just worried about the procedure.'

 

'Don't worry, it'll be better after. You'll see.' Lukewarm comfort bestowed, Yixing turns back to the lecturer, perfectly at ease.

 

And Luhan realizes the cured live like they are floating on the surface of existence, never feeling anything more than content, never knowing anything but middleground emotions. Trapped behind glass doors, safe.

 

Boring.

 

Luhan stifles a gasp of horror at himself. He cannot think like this.

 

He reins in his thoughts and directs them back to work. 

 

This is life as it is, as he chose. He needs to stop wondering, questioning..

 

**-60**

 

He manages to avoid Sehun for a full two weeks; brushing him off with excuses of work and life and assignments. And each call becomes shorter and more disappointed. Maybe Sehun knows, but he doesn't say anything; and Luhan doesn't want to care anymore. Sehun is dangerous to him now, corrosive acid on an open wound.

 

~~

 

'Luhan!' His mother exclaims. 'Sehun and his family are here, keep your friend company please.'

 

Luhan doesn't think his parents would understand if he said, 'I don't want to see him.' And he can't explain the situation without pulling Sehun under too. There's a part of him that still wants to save Sehun, as well as he can manage to.

 

'Hi,' Sehun's voice is sullen. 'Sorry for intruding.'

 

Luhan doesn't want to look up, so he keeps staring at the pages of his book, words smudging into hazy blots of grey before his eyes. Fear is creeping along his skin, raising goosebumps in its wake.

 

'You're not.'

 

It is short, and completely untrue.

 

Sehun scoffs, and Luhan looks up. 

 

There’s darkness in the lines of Sehun’s face, that makes him look far far older than his 17 years. There’s sadness in his eyes, sadness that Luhan isn’t familiar with, too much emotion cloistered in too small a space.

 

‘You’re infected,’ Luhan pronounces suddenly, a stab of fear through his heart. He doesn’t know how he knows, but he does.

 

Sehun laughs in lieu of an answer, and it’s hollow, and terrifying. 

 

‘How long? Who infected you? Why didn’t you get the cure?’ 

 

Luhan wants to save Sehun, maybe just because he wants to, maybe because saving Sehun means saving himself.

 

Sehun doesn’t reply any of the questions shot at him, save one.

 

‘You did,’ he says, simple and stark.

 

‘No, you infected  _ me _ .’ Luhan responds on instinct, without thinking.

 

‘What.’ 

 

Sehun takes a step closer, something Luhan can't recognize swimming in his eyes. ‘What did you say?’

 

‘Nothing,’ Luhan whispers, ‘nothing.’

 

_ Don’t come closer, _ he wants to say.  _ Don’t. _

 

His heart is clenching in his chest, twisting. Like chains are crisscrossed around it, constricting his lungs. His mouth drains of saliva.  _ Phase one,  _ he thinks.  _ Phase one. _

 

And suddenly it doesn’t matter anymore, phase one or phase two or death, because Sehun is too close, close enough to touch, and his hand slides up Luhan’s cheek. Luhan wants to say no, should say no, should push Sehun away, scream for help and rush them both for the cure. But Luhan can’t find the energy or will for that, trapped under the darkness hiding in Sehun’s eyes, frozen. 

 

He watches everything with a detached awe, almost like he has flowed out of his own body, watches as Sehun stoops down before him, as he leans forward, as he presses lips to Luhan’s.

 

That’s when he returns to his body. In time to feel warm hands and warmer lips, in time to blindly pull Sehun closer, in time to fall back into his bed, Sehun above him.

 

He snaps back alert when Sehun sneaks a hand under his shirt, and sits up, shoving Sehun away.

 

‘What are you doing? What are  _ we _ doing? We’re going to die, Sehun.’

 

‘I’ve loved you since I was 15. I don’t think we’re going to die so soon.’ The quiet, deadly seriousness in Sehun's voice scares Luhan.

 

_ Love _ .  _ Love love love. _ The word echoes in Luhan’s mind, a red letter, a warning siren. Love.

 

‘Don’t say- that.’ His voice catches in his throat.

 

‘Love,’ Sehun croons, low and tender. ‘Love love love.’ And it stops sounding like a curse, starts sounding like a lullaby, like a promise, like everything beautiful wrapped up in a tiny word.

 

‘You’re getting the procedure done in two months. Let’s just pretend for two months.’ There is pleading in Sehun’s eyes, desperate longing.

 

In two months Luhan will be safe. Just two months. Maybe it will be alright to risk everything before then.

 

‘Okay,’ Luhan says. ‘Okay.’

 

He catches Sehun’s fingers in his hands, leans up again. It’s amazing how easy it becomes.

 

~~

 

**{Interlude}**

 

There are two Luhans coexisting in the same world, walking around in the same body. One Luhan goes to school every morning and socializes with his peers, goes home to hold civil conversations with his parents, does chores, completes essays and takes part in appropriate extracurricular activities, like track, and soccer.

 

Another Luhan slips on anxious feet home, after school ends, tells his parents he’s going to Sehun’s place and there learns how to kiss, how to touch, how to love.

 

One Luhan carries the other inside his chest, a burning, pulsing secret that would scar anyone who uncovers it. 

 

His parents, and Sehun’s, look at them with a false understanding. They think it’s a last minute scramble to live his uncured life out before the procedure, before the world changes, restructures itself, becomes far different from the one he is used to now. If they knew, that instead of talking and reading, Sehun is drawing illegible doodles across the bumps on Luhan’s spine; if they knew that instead of calculating mathematical formulae, Luhan is tracing his tongue tentatively down Sehun’s neck. If they knew-

 

Luhan doesn’t like to think about what would happen if they knew.

 

**-20**

 

‘We’re having a tea meeting with Lee Gayoung and her parents today,’ his mother informs him one Saturday. 

 

‘Oh,’ Luhan eyes widen, his heart squeezes. The world seems to close in on him, like shrinking rooms, like the jaws of a trap. He had forgotten, in the midst of the world that had become Sehun and his eyes, his mouth, his whispers and promises. He had forgotten, and time had trundled on without heed. 

 

'Since it's two weeks to your procedure, we thought you should officially meet.' His mother smiles at him, but it seems distracted, almost like he's merely a tick in the right checkbox.

 

'You'll probably be paired right after your procedure. Aren't you excited?' 

 

'Yes, of course!' The smile on Luhan's mouth stretches painfully across his skin.

 

~~

 

Back in his own room, he glances at the calendar, at the scarlet circle, drawn so happily only a few months ago. For the first time, he wishes that what he and Sehun have, he could keep forever.

 

Tick tock calls the clock above his desk. Tick tock. It sounds like the ticking of a bomb counting down to explosion.

 

~~

 

Lee Gayoung is a slight, bird-boned creature, as beautiful as a fairy, laughing eyes, curling black hair and rose blush cheeks. 

 

'You're very pretty,' Luhan says when they are introduced. 

 

'So are you,' she says. And he can almost feel his parents flinch. Too pretty for a boy, not masculine enough.

 

'Luhan plays soccer very well,' his mother rushes to insert, as frazzled as he has heard her.

 

'I know,' Gayoung says, and she smiles.

 

She really is pretty.

 

They make polite conversation, tabletop small talk, words with absolutely no meaning, wasted trivial words. It doesn't matter what they say anyway, the path has been drawn out for them, etched into concrete. The only way to go.

 

As they usher their guests out, they nearly collide with Sehun walking up to their gate. 

 

'Oh! Sehun.' Luhan's mother exclaims. ‘This is Gayoung, she’s Luhan’s pair.’

 

‘This is Sehun, he’s Luhan’s childhood friend.’ 

 

‘Ah,’ Gayoung’s parents nod. Both sets of adults share a look; a look that acknowledges the things that will invariably change after the procedure. 

 

‘I was just coming over to ask if Luhan wants to hang out. Later then I guess.’ Sehun is unfailingly polite, but Luhan can see something no one else sees. There is a shattering in his eyes, a breaking devastation that echoes in Luhan’s heart.

 

Luhan’s eyes follow Sehun’s back as he walks out the gate, and he thinks, that’s the last thing he ever wants to see.

 

~~

 

Luhan wants to ask permission to go to Sehun’s, wants to be excused, but his parents sit him down and run through what it means to be paired, the number of children he needs to produce, what it means to be a husband. The responsibilities he will hold, to Gayoung, to his future children. He stays still through an immense force of will, because every part of him wants to run to Sehun, fly over that short distance between their houses, pick up each of the broken pieces and glue them back together. 

 

It’s close to seven by the time he can leave, two hours since Sehun had walked out, his eyes like broken splinters of glass. Luhan scrambles into his jacket after dinner and speed walks to Sehun’s place. 

 

He murmurs something polite to Sehun’s parents when they open the door, and makes excruciating small talk about the upcoming pairing and procedure before he can knock on Sehun’s door.

 

‘Hi,’ Sehun says, voice cold.

 

‘I’m sorry,’ Luhan says, as the door closes behind them. ‘I’m sorry.’

 

‘What’s there to be sorry about? We know this is how it goes; you get cured, you get paired, you have children, your life goes on. We weren’t meant to last anyway.’

 

‘Sehun..’

 

‘No, don’t say anything. It was just pretending. We can stop pretending now.’

 

The silence that descends is heavy and thick, dense with emotions they aren’t supposed to be feeling, aren’t supposed to be experienced by them.

 

‘But, I love you,’ Luhan whispers, and the words are unfamiliar and strange, but they feel like flowers in his mouth, like jewels and gold. 

 

Sehun’s eyes focus steadily on him and he comes closer slowly and Luhan says it again, wonderingly. ‘I love you.’

 

‘I love you,’ he says again and again, over and over, until Sehun silences him with his mouth. 

 

There is something different when they come together, something more, something that makes Luhan want to give everything up, to this boy that holds him like he’s something precious. 

 

It’s not perfect, it’s clumsy and awkward, and Luhan is still so afraid of the amount of skin and the press of lips on parts of him always hidden. But there is something in the air that is stronger than any of that fear, something in the way Sehun touches him, in the way his eyes travel along Luhan’s body, almost like caressing his soul.

 

They muffle their cries into each other’s mouths, claw against sheets and skin; concealed passion and suppressed love. 

 

~~

 

‘Let’s run away,’ Luhan says, ‘far away where they can’t find us. There has to be something else for us right?’

 

Sehun looks at him searchingly.

 

‘We could store up supplies, and run to the Wilds. There has to be some other people out there. The Invalids, they’re surviving somehow.’

 

Luhan sees the plan crystallize as he talks, a glinting castle in the sky. 

 

‘Are you serious?’ Sehun whispers, pressing fingers into Luhan’s skin. 

 

‘Yes,’ Luhan declares, ‘yes.’

 

There is a spark of hope in Sehun’s eyes, a spark that lights a flame in Luhan’s heart.

 

‘There’s a part of the fence that isn’t fortified, no electricity through it. Once when I was looking out into the Wilds, I brushed too close to a fence.’

 

Luhan looks up, suddenly there’s possibility flashing like lightning between them. 

 

‘We can take our things, climb out and run.’

 

Luhan’s breath clogs in his throat; a path opens up for them, a path that he never thought could be formed, tangles of weeds hacked through with an axe, sunlight through darkness.

 

‘Next week,’ Luhan says, twining their fingers together.

 

‘Okay,’ Sehun agrees, and squeezes Luhan’s hand. ‘Okay.’

 

Luhan slips out of the room and somehow makes casual conversation with Sehun’s parents, heart pounding hard in his chest.

 

**-10**

 

They make plans for a Wednesday night, after lights out, after curfew; creep out of their windows and make their way to the fence. The unfortified part of the fence is near their old school, about twenty minutes away from their homes.

 

‘Hey,’ Sehun whispers, fingers grasping at Luhan’s wrist.

 

‘Hey,’ Luhan whispers back, going on tiptoes to press lips to the corner of Sehun’s mouth.

 

That’s when the bright white lights land on them. 

 

Luhan loses Sehun in the ensuing shuffle, of regulators and dogs and too much noise. He can feel fingernails digging deep and painful into his skin, almost drawing blood. They drag him away from Sehun, like dragging a heavy anchor. 

 

Luhan screams, arms reaching out for Sehun and a needle pricks through his skin.

 

The world goes black.

 

~~

 

'We informed you the minute we found out. We didn't know either!'

 

The first thing Luhan hears when he wakes is his parents pleading their innocence. To be accused as sympathizers would be a stain they would never be able to scrub out. It's strange that even as all other emotions are scrubbed out, fear remains.

 

He tugs at his arms, stretched unnaturally away from him, tied in dead knots to the bedframe. There is a heaviness in his body that is not normal. 

 

'Where's Sehun?' He snarls when his father comes in. 

 

His father stares at him, distant and aloof, like staring at a stranger. 'Getting the procedure.'

 

'He's too young!' Luhan strains against the bonds.

 

'He's dangerous.' His father says this matter of fact.

 

The energy and hate drain out of Luhan in a rush. Once Sehun is cured, everything that they have built up and fought for turns into dust, scattered in the winds.

 

'Your procedure is tomorrow,' his father says as he leaves the room.

 

Luhan has no more will to argue.

 

~~

 

When they come for him the next day, he is as pliant as a rag doll, limbs loose and malleable.

 

**+1**

 

Sehun comes to visit Luhan after his procedure, tall and statuesque and just as cold. 

 

'I'm really sorry about before.' There is something that flickers momentarily in his eyes before sputtering out. 

 

'That's okay.' Luhan doesn't say anything about the tearing, breaking, crushing that Sehun's words, icy and solemn, does to his insides, doesn't say anything about the chill that blows through his bones when Sehun grants him a polite smile and leaves, back poker straight.

 

He tells himself it's a lasting remnant of before the cure. He tells himself it will go away. 

 

But he knows it won't.

 

There are horror stories that travel through the people, of the one in ten thousand who are immune, who can't be cured. Luhan scoffs at himself, typical that he would be the one that is.

 

He sinks further into the bed, no point trying again. The sole reason to fight is gone.

 

The life ahead seems so very dim.

 

~~

 

('What's it like to be cured?' His young cousin asks, eyes wide with curiosity.

 

Luhan looks over at the other end of the playground, where Sehun is standing with his pair.  _ Like living a half-life, always behind a solid glass. Like walking around swathed in cotton wool, hearing and seeing things through a white mist. _

  
'Better,' he tells his cousin, smiling a smile that feels like it could slice his face in half.)


End file.
